


Can't Help Falling In Love

by coupe_de_foudre



Series: Newtmas/Dylmas One-Shots [1]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Movie Night, Pillow & Blanket Forts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 04:36:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15356388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coupe_de_foudre/pseuds/coupe_de_foudre
Summary: "Can you explain why there are sheets strung up around the apartment?""I built a fort."





	Can't Help Falling In Love

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by an AU Prompt on Tumblr. It's also written specially today to mark 3 years since I wrote my first one-shot (another Newtmas one, you can find it under my work as Hope-and-Believe on Wattpad). Here's to another 3 years of writing! *clinks glass*
> 
> Happy reading, snowflakes <3

Thomas walked out of the local supermarket feeling accomplished, carrying a carrier bag in each hand containing: a loaf of bread, two cartons of milk, tins of soup and baked beans, a jar of his preferred brand of ground coffee and some toilet roll – along with a pack of Newt’s favourite chocolate chip cookies. 

Outside, the sun was beating down on his skin with a harsh glow – his blue t-shirt clinging damply to his toned skin, hair matted to his forehead and dripping sweat down his face. Using the back of his forearm, Thomas wiped away the excess sweat as best as he could, though he knew it was pointless; there was still another ten minute walk until he reached his and Newt’s shared apartment.

Thomas and Newt had started dating mid-way through their last year of high school, despite their many friends being convinced they’d already been in a relationship for years. The two just knew each other well, probably as much (if not more so) than they knew themselves. Ever since they first met at a playdate their mother’s sent them on, still in diapers and barely able to crawl let alone talk, Thomas and Newt had been inseparable. Joined at the hip, people would often say. 

It wasn’t until around the age of 15 that Thomas started to develop a crush on his best friend. Newt being such a close friend, practically a brother figure, made the situation confusing enough as it was – add in the fact that Newt was a guy, and until then Thomas hadn’t even considered that he might be gay, Thomas was a complete wreck. 

It took almost two years for Thomas to reveal his feelings to Newt, clumsy and rushed as he went to run back into his house after one of their regular Thursday night’s out at the nearby burger joint. Newt had grabbed his wrist, probably a bit too tightly but he’d panicked and thought he was about to lose Thomas, pulling the embarrassed teen back out into the heavy downpour of rain to crash their lips together in an unexperienced kiss full of too much tongue and teeth, rain sliding down their faces. Neither of the two seemed to mind though, lost in the moment. It was perfect, despite what anybody else might say.

Really, it was inevitable that the two would fall naturally into a relationship.

Their friends and family had been accepting enough, maybe because not much actually changed between the two boys other than the occasional shared kiss or longing look from afar. The random touching, arms slung around each other’s waist, stupid jokes and mutual love had already been present in their lifelong friendship. Maybe that was why they worked so well as a couple.

Finally arriving outside the block of flats in which he and Newt lived, Thomas smiled in relief and hurried inside, relishing in the wall of cool air that hit him the moment he stepped through the large front doors.

It wasn’t much, the building. About three stories tall, built of old bricks and tiles, there were only 6 flats in total – 1 of which was currently empty; the previous owner had moved to Australia to live with his long-term girlfriend. Most of the residents were older people, mid 70’s, Thomas would say – but they were all friendly enough, always stopping to talk to him and Newt whenever they saw the two boys, offering them in for a cup of tea and a slice of cake. There was one younger couple with their three children, the eldest of which was only 9 and the youngest being barely a year old, who lived in the flat below Thomas and Newt. Muffled cries or laughter could often be heard through the floorboards, which were definitely not soundproof.

Thomas and Newt lived on the first floor, with a wide view of the street below, a lovely old man called Norbert living above them.

Hefting the two bags with him up the two flights of stairs, Thomas began planning tonight’s meal. It was his night to cook, and they’d already had spaghetti bolognaise this week (Thomas speciality in the kitchen). With a sigh, he decided that it’d have to just be something basic – fish fingers and chips, perhaps. 

When he got to their flat, Thomas had to shift the bags to balance on his thigh as he rummaged around his back pocket to pull out his keys. Unlocking the door, he quickly grabbed the bags to stop them from dropping to the floor, and stepping through into the quiet flat, letting the door click shut behind him with a gentle kick of his heel.

The flat itself, much like the building, wasn’t anything special; a narrow hallway leading to a small kitchen with a second-hand table standing proudly in the centre, three chairs around it and today’s newspaper left open by a cold cup of coffee. Opposite the kitchen was the living-room, dim-lighted but comfortable with a worn-down couch, large flat-screen television and two bookcases full of old books and DVDs. A lamp stood in the furthest corner besides a fast-growing plant, small magenta coloured flowers now starting to bloom on the leaves.

Further down the narrow hallway, of which on the neutral painted walls hung multiple framed photos of the couple (some of which featured their close friends of family) were two more rooms. Each framed picture showed memories in which the people there were always smiling, none of them faked for the camera since everybody was genuinely having a good time. 

Thomas’ favourite picture wasn’t actually on the walls; it was propped up on Newt’s bedside table, usually next to a glass of water and a broken alarm clock. It was a picture taken on one of their first dates as an official couple, Newt’s arm outstretched as he held his phone up to take the photo. Thomas hadn’t even noticed that Newt had taken a picture of them, eyes closed as he pressed his lips to Newt’s in a soft and gentle kiss, the corners of his mouth turned up in a carefree smile. It wasn’t until the bright flash went off that Thomas pulled away, blinded and confused before noticing Newt smiling down at his phone fondly. The picture had captured the intimate moment perfectly, and Thomas treasured it even now five years later.

One of the last two rooms was the tiny bathroom, only able to squeeze in a toilet, sink and bathtub with just enough room to walk without bumping into something. Despite the limited room, Thomas and Newt had still managed to scatter toiletries around the place, filling up the edge of the sink and the bathtub. A small cup on the side of the sink, a Finding Nemo cup that Thomas had owned since he was four, held two toothbrushes – one blue and one green – and every time Thomas saw them he smiled a little bit. He couldn’t help it.

The toothbrush had been the first thing that Newt had moved into the flat back when Thomas had only lived there for a few weeks and Newt had been sharing a dorm room with a college friend. Thomas would complain, every time that Newt stayed the night, about having to share his toothbrush with Newt. “It’s just terrible hygiene!” he would say, throwing his hands in the air with despair whenever Newt argued that Thomas was perfectly fine kissing him. Eventually, Newt just brought his own toothbrush and left it there – much to Thomas’ liking.

Before either of them knew it, Newt had begun gradually leaving stuff in the flat every time he stayed until he ended up having more belongings there than he did in his dorm room. That was when Thomas finally decided to ask him to move in with him, officially, over a cup of morning coffee as he watched Newt throw some crumpets in the toaster.  
Smiling to himself at the memory, Thomas shuffled the two bags that he was carrying into the kitchen and dumped them on the counter with a sigh of relief, arms sagging from holding the heavy weights for so long. He really needed to start going to the gym again.

Moving around the small kitchen with ease, Thomas unpacked the bags in no time – shoving them into a cupboard full of carrier bags to be reused. He glanced up at the clock on the wall by the fridge, noting that he had at least another half an hour until he needed to start cooking dinner. 

He wondered where Newt was, only now realising how quiet it seemed in the flat. He knew that it was his boyfriend’s day off from work, which usually meant he wouldn’t leave the flat, opting instead to lounge around in his pyjama bottoms (actually, it would usually be Thomas’ pyjama bottoms) and doing nothing productive. Newt claimed that he only got two days off a week so he deserved the right to be lazy. Thomas never argued; he was no less lazy.

Leaving the kitchen, Thomas suddenly saw that the door to the living-room was pulled shut. Since it was only the two of them living here, they usually left all the doors open.  
A slight frown settling into his brow, Thomas pushed open the door. What he saw before him was definitely nothing he had expected.

Their living-room had been completely transformed; the couch pushed to the wall and all the clutter from the floor cleared up but that wasn’t the strangest thing. No, the strangest thing was the countless white bedsheets strung up around the walls, covering the room. One was even hanging loosely from the ceiling, shielding the usually bright orange light above and turning it into a soft glow through the thin material. In the centre of the room sat Newt, hair ruffled up and (as predicted) a pair of Thomas’ old checkered pyjama bottoms hanging dangerously lowly from his prominent hip bones. He was sat cross-legged on the floor; wait no, on a pile of cushions from the couch, with his nose buried deep in a book.

“Can you explain why there are sheets strung up around the apartment?” Thomas voiced his obvious first question, his eyes scanning the room with curiosity once more before settling back on to his boyfriend, who was now looking up at him, book hanging open by his thumb.

Newt met his gaze with an innocent, almost childlike smile, “I built a fort.”

It was a simple response, four small words, and yet the way in which he voiced them – pure joy and a proud smile falling on his lips afterwards – caused Thomas’ heart to swell in his chest. The smile that spread across his own lips was unstoppable and he stepped further into the room to join his boyfriend on the floor. 

“Right,” Thomas muttered, smiling still, “Why exactly?”

Newt shrugged, placing a bookmark (one Thomas remembered him buying whilst they visited Scotland last summer) inside his book and letting it rest on his knee. “I got bored and I thought, what did I used to enjoy doing as a kid? Turns out it’s still as fun to build a fort as an adult.”

Thomas couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking his head at his adorable dork of a boyfriend. “I love you so much sometimes.” He muttered, voice full of laughter and his eyes gazing adoringly at Newt. Newt didn’t need to say the words back; the chaste kiss pressed to Thomas’ warm lips told him all that he already knew. “It’s great, by the way.” Thomas said as an afterthought as Newt pulled away, and he gestured to the makeshift fort surrounding them.

Newt giggled, the book falling from his knee as he shifted his legs to make himself more comfortable. “Thanks, Tommy.”

Thomas rolled his eyes at the nickname but the familiar warm pool in his stomach was recognisable. The goofy smile on his face didn’t budge.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, Thomas leaning back to rest on his arms behind him as he gazed up at the sheet-covered ceiling. When he found his back going stiff, he shuffled his body so that he was lying on his side and glanced down at Newt’s phone, left discarded on the floor, to check the time. His eyes widened as he realised over thirty minutes had passed since he’d arrived home and he sighed, a groan slipping from his lips before he could stop it.

Newt looked down at him, eyes questioning. Thomas blinked up through his eyelashes, sending Newt his best attempt at puppy-dog eyes as he spoke, voice syrupy sweet. “Fancy a takeout, babe?”

Newt laughed, rolling his eyes because of course Thomas couldn’t be bothered to cook. They ended up having takeout at least once a week – though Newt couldn’t really complain because it always tasted delicious. 

Pretending to sigh with annoyance, Newt said, “If we must.” He tried to add as much disdain as he could to the words, failing miserable as a burst of laughter slipped out and he ended up smiling again. Thomas jumped up, grabbing Newt’s phone and already dialling the Chinese takeout down the street.

Twenty minutes later, they stumbled back into their flat arms full of warm Chinese food and still laughing about how Thomas had almost tripped up the last couple of steps on their way up. Newt made sure the door shut behind them before dumping his share of food into Thomas’ arms (receiving an unimpressed look) and skipping into the kitchen to pull out two empty glasses to go with the large sharing bottle of Pepsi that came with their order and a handful of cutlery.

Following Thomas back into the living-room, the sheets still strung around the room and pillows scattered across the floor, Newt flicked on the light. The soft glow above them seemed to make the makeshift fort much cosier, and Newt smiled as he plopped himself down onto a pile of cushions beside Thomas, placing the two glasses down onto the floor to his free side, dropping the cutlery down too. 

Thomas had already placed an old Disney movie into the DVD player – it had been Newt’s years ago and they decided to keep it since they had loads of old DVDs. The intro music was starting up, Thomas adjusting the sound, whilst Newt began to make himself useful by sorting out what tub of food belonged to whom. 

Thomas finally settled down, placing the remote by his feet and grabbing a spring roll from the bag to share, taking a large bite out of it. He glanced over at Newt, who was just sucking in a stray noodle with a quiet laugh, the light from above leaving a golden sheen over his blonde hair. Thomas smiled at his boyfriend, leaning forward to steal a quick kiss from him, and realising all over again just how lucky he was to live the life that he had.

He didn’t believe that there was anything else that he could possibly need.


End file.
